Clicks and Hisses
by Sir Alwick
Summary: Three years after the Reaper war, Shepard is a man at peace; however, that peace is quickly shattered when a ghost from his past reappears, dragging him into one last mission.
1. Chapter 1

**I**

It started with synth music (That much was to be expected) a sort of jazzy number with a rolling drum beat and bouncy bass line placed over several establishing shots of the newly reconstructed Presidium. A salarian male and a blonde, human female sitting behind a desk in one of the new embassy offices pantomimed having a conversation as the camera slowly pushed in and the music began to fade.

"Hello there," said the salarian, pretending to speak directly to the viewer. "You know, we've been going through a lot of big changes here at the Citadel ever since the end of the Reaper War."

There was an awkward cut and suddenly the human female was standing at the salarian's side.

"As you can see the rebuilding efforts have been highly successful, but there's still a lot to do. Large sections of the Wards are still in desperate need of repair. Obviously this is a huge undertaking, but there's no need to worry. We know we'll succeed. Why you ask? Because of one thing."

The human and salarian looked at one another and with the biggest, phoniest grins possible turned to the camera and declared in not-so-perfect unison: "Team work!"

The bass-y synth returned and the viewer was immediately bombarded with images of a diverse sampling of Citadel occupants engaging in various reconstruction efforts: patching holes, reconnecting power lines, hooking up water mains, hammering, drilling, soddering, welding, etc. Engineers tinkered and tapped on their omnitools. New trees were lovingly laid in freshly sodded planters on the Presidium level. Supervisors layed out holographic blueprints of future projects. Seemingly very important conversations unheard by the viewer over the awful synth music were had between well dressed business looking types in pristine office spaces. There were friendly waves and nods and winks and smiles all around from everyone. The human and salarian officers who introduced the vid acted as narrarators throughout, extoling the virtues of cooperation while simultaneously promoting the benefits of living on the Citadel.

"Cooperation is the key to the Citadel's amazing recovery," cheered one.

"At the Citadel you're not just a citizen. You're part of a family," affirmed the other.

Images of citizens engaged in a multitude of leisurely activities flashed across the screen. The active nightlife was heavily featured: Nightclubs, casinos, restaurants, concerts and shows. Bartenders served up ice cold drinks to enthusiastically happy patrons as expert chefs placed generously proportioned plates of hot, steaming cuisine in front of the same. Couples walked hand in hand down dimly lit, romantically decorated avenues against gorgeous outer space themed backdrops, and all the while the two narrarator's exaltation of the Citadel continued unabated.

"Now, more than ever, the Citadel is a place for all species from all walks of life to come together and make a better life for everyone," declared the first narrarator.

"No matter who you are, be you asari, turian, human, salarian, elcor, quarian, krogan or anything in between, the Citadel wants to be a place you can call your own," proclaimed the second.

It went on like that for a while. Words like 'teamwork,' 'togetherness,' 'friendship,' 'cooperation,' and 'family' were repeated ad naseum. There were highly staged testimontials featuring nakedly obvious actors speaking of the Citadel with the same warmth and affection one might reserve for a loved one.

"What's life like on the Citadel? It's like a warm hug that's just the right size for everyone."

"Thanks to the Citadel I've been given the greatest gift of all: the gift of friendship."

Everything had an air of speciousness to it. Even the parts that felt geniune seemed inauthentic, as if everyone appearing in the vid showed up on day one, were given five minutes to memorize their lines, had a bunch of props shoved into their hands and were then told to look busy. People pointed and pretended to talk. Tools were held in ways that suggested the user had no idea what they were used for, and everyone that had the physical ability to smile did so with great big gobs of put-upon gusto as the jazzy synth track bounced merrily along.

Finally, after twenty brutal minutes the vid ended. The final image was a wide shot of several citizens standing on front of one of the Presidium's massive balconies. An asari beckoned to the viewer to come join the Citadel family and then the entire group declared in unison, "Together we can make a brighter tomorrow," before freeze framing in the midst of an enthusiastic cheer. The picture faded to black and the credits started to roll with the first words being 'Directed by Skalia Dakaran.'

With the vid complete, the green-hued salarian who'd been watching the presentation with almost unbridled excitement swfitly pulled up his omnitool and killed the picture and mercifully the repugnant synth music along with it, making the c-sec office quiet once more.

"So, Commander, tell me honestly," he said with a bright smile. "What do you think? Pretty great, huh?"

Shepard shifted a bit uncomfortably in his seat before leaning forward and putting his elbows up on his desk.

"Uh...well, Mr. Dakaran-" he began.

"Please," interupted the salarian. "Call me Skalia."

Shepard smiled wryly.

"Yes...well...Skalia, it certainly was...interesting."

Skalia was bursting with the kind of faux excitement you only get from someone trying to sell you something as he quickly exclaimed, "I knew you'd love it. Now, all the vid needs is a little endorsement at the end from you, something like "I'm Commander Shepard, slayer of the Reapers, and I want you to join the Citadel family."

"Uhh..."

"Of course that's just off the top of my head. The writers will come up with something better suited to you personally. It'll be easy I assure you, an hour of your time at the most. A little wink and a wave and you're done."

"Yeah, about that," Shepard interjected quickly. "Of course I want to help-"

"Uh-huh," grinned Skalia.

"And I really do like the message."

"Yeah, yeah, the message, uh-huh."

"But...the vid. Doesn't the whole thing come off a little...I don't know...schmaltzy?"

"Are you kidding me?" asked Skalia, his grin not faltering. "Shepard, baby, haven't you heard? Schmaltzy is _**in**_. Cheesy is hip and corny is cool. Highest grossing vid last year? _A Home for Rakka_, a heart warming tale about the bond of friendship forged between a curmudgeony old krogan and an adorable baby pyjack whose lost his way. People are tired of conflict. They want cheap sentimentality, the warm gooies, the lovey-dovies, the touchy feelies. Trust me. When the extranet sees this new promo vid everyone will fall in love with it. They'll see that the Citadel is still the number one place to be in the galaxy. The businesses will return, the people will come back and the Citadel will truly be alive again."

Looking down at his desk, Shepard thought for a moment.

"I guess that makes sense," he said after a beat.

"Look, there's no need to make a decision now," said Skalia quickly. "Take some time, think it over. I'm going to have my hands full for the next week or so anyway. We're resuming production on _A Home for Rakka 2_. In this one the old krogan and Rakka make a new friend, a cute and cuddly kitten named Boom-Boom. We unfortunately had to halt filming for a few weeks while we looked for a new Boom-Boom. Rakka...sort of...ate the last one."

**II**

It had been three years since the defeat of the Reapers, since Commander Shepard and his team fought their way through dozens of indoctrinated soldiers on their way to activating the Crucible and annihilating the greatest threat the galaxy had ever known in one fell swoop. Shepard had been the only one to make it on board the Citadel, somehow managing to skirt an onslaught of earth shattering energy attacks from the Reaper headmaster Harbinger. He distinctly remembered limping his way into the transport beam and making it inside where he activated the arms and primed the device, but unfortunately after that the details began to get hazy. He recalled a message from Admiral Hackett saying something was wrong, that the Crucible wasn't firing. He remembered blood and pain and this horrible throbbing in his head as he fumbled with the control panel and then nothing. He vaguely recalled Admiral Anderson and the Illusive Man being on board as well, though official reports of the incident would despute his claims. The body of the Illusive Man would indeed be found sometime later amongst the wreckage, but Anderson was declared KIA with all official Alliance reports determining that he never made it into the transport and was most likely killed during the initial charge, incinerated by one of Harbinger's devastating energy attacks. Regardlless of the details the fact was that shortly after the message from Hackett, Shepard lost consciousness. When he came to he was lying in the smoldering remains of what had once been the Wards and a duo of Alliance soldiers were kneeling over him asking him if he was alright. He passed out again and when he finally woke up two months had passed. The war was over and the Reapers were dead, their utterly inactive remains littering the galaxy.

While it was true Shepard had not been all that enthused with Skalia's vid (He was a firm believer that all it took to motivate people was honest sincerity paired with a helping hand as opposed to the emotionally manipulative treacle the director was pitching) he nevertheless was being completely honest when he said he liked the message. Truthfully he'd had a lot of concerns about what would happen when the war ended. Whether or not they could even win was only the start of his worries and he often sat up nights wondering about what would be left; if they could rebuild; if it would even be possible for things to ever be 'normal' again; if things could be better than they were and how long it would take before all the old hatreds and prejudices began bubbling to the surface once again, but what happened when the last of the Reaper's fell was far better than anything he could have hoped for. To fight the Reaper scourge the galaxy had banded together to find strength hitherto unknown to any living species and now that they were dead that strength did not falter. Men at arms turned into helping hands. Turian refugees recieved aid from asari supply ships. Salarian engineers worked tirelessly to repair human infrastructures. Together, in perfect unison, the galaxy picked itself up, dusted itself off, and began to heal. One world. One universe. One galaxy. It made Shepard proud to have been a part of it.

As for Shepard, his injuries combined with the not so minor feat of destroying the Reapers suceeded in earning him not only an almost embarrassing number of medals and commendations from various governments and institutions througout the galaxy, but also an honorable discharge from his service with the Alliance military, and once he was healed he signed a contract with the Citadel to oversee security during its reconstruction. It was an uneventful job; mostly a lot of paperwork and handling minor internal disputes. It was boring at times and occasionally Shepard wondered if perhaps he should have been doing more to help, but ultimately he figured it was for the best. He was done fighting. He was ready for peace and he would enjoy it. For however long it lasted.

**III**

The security job Shepard took did not offer many perks, but it did at least grant him a more than decent office in which to work. Spacious enough to fit a fine couch, it offered quiet comfort with a window overlooking the big fountain in the middle of the Presidium. It was here in this office that Shepard found himself now, sitting at his desk, typing away with vigor at his omniterminal. His meeting with Skalia had ended. He'd had his hour for lunch and now it was time to get back to work. Aside from the muted beeping and booping of his keystrokes the only other sound came from the holoscreen in the western corner of the room, the one currently tuned to the Galactic News Network. He usually liked to keep it tuned to GNN while he was working. Though he may not have been a specter anymore, keeping himself abridged on the goings-on of the galaxy remained important to him. Having GNN on in the background he believed at the very least helped keep him informed.

He was double checking his work, going over his spelling and punctuation and making sure there were no boxes left unchecked, when a 'human interest story' coming over the holoscreen caught his attention. Turning to the screen he found a well dressed, human field reporter speaking to the camera as he walked along an unnamed corridor somewhere on Illium.

"As their physiology improves and their immunities strengthen, more and more quarian men and women are finding themselves with the ability to step outside their envirosuits and enjoy lives free of the threat of contamination for the first time," said the reporter. "But for many this can be an difficult and even terryfiying endeavor."

There was a hard cut to an envirosuit-ed quarian male sitting in front of a vague office backdrop.

"I've been told my whole life never to take my suit off, even for a moment," said the quarian to the offscreen reporter. "My parents, they would tell me everyday as a child to never remove my visor unless it was a clean room. They told me I could die otherwise. That kind of stuff stays with you. Now, even though I know I can...I don't know...the thought still scares me. It's just hard to feel safe."

There was another cut and suddenly a light purple asari dressed in the familiar white of a doctor's uniform filled the screen.

"What people need to understand is that this is not simply a matter of 'just doing it," said the asari. "It's a state of mind that needs to be corrected through careful therapy. Breaking down these barriers, which have been strongly reinforced since childhood, is a process that can't be rushed. It takes time. Here at Free Living we help our quarian brothers and sisters find the courage to take that first big step out into the world."

A handful of testimonials later and the story ended. The field reporter signed off and the the head anchor, a turian named Kax Narlen, appeared on screen, rolling into the next story with very little hesitation.

"Keresy Communications announced today that their long awaited P2P communications project _Audible_ is nearing completion," declared Kax, a graphic sporting the afore mentioned electronics company appearing to his left. "Vin Keresy, CEO and founder of Keresy Communications had this to say."

Another cut and a volus in a sleek black and white envirosuit standing behind a podium before a room of energetic reporters appeared.

"The final satelite...is finishing construction...as we speak," breathed the volus into the microphone. "As soon as it is launched...and properly synched up with the rest...of our network...our customers will at long last...be able to send and recieve transmissions to anyone...in Citadel space...directly from their omnitools. True connectivity...is finally within our...grasp"

The audio faded quickly and Kax appeared once more.

"The Audible project, which began in 2184, was forced to cease construction at the start of the Reaper War three years ago. Though Keresy Communications experienced many setbacks during the course of the project, it now confirms a completion date as early as next week. It promises for the first time ever lightspeed fast communication between persons anywhere in Citadel space."

Seeing both news stories back to back, Shepard couldn't help but feel that perhaps he had been too quick to judge Skalia's promo vid. Maybe it _was_ schmaltzy, but there was no denying that the galaxy seemed to be heading in a much more positive direction now, and if it helped the rebuilding process and brought more revenue into the station then maybe taking the time to throw the project a little endorsement wasn't such a bad idea. Before any decisions could be made however the small reciever on his desk flashed green and booped to life with an incoming communication from his receptionist.

"Commander, you have a visitor," said the speaker.

Shepard did not have any other meetings scheduled for that day and was somewhat surprised by the announcement. Nevertheless, figuring he had the time and that it was probably something minor anyway, he asked that the visiting party be shown in. He returned his attention to his reports and was giving them one final going-over on his data pad when the office door swished open and a worn but all too familiar voice greeted his ears.

"So they finally managed to get you behind a desk, eh?"

Shepard's head snapped up as his old CO, Admiral Stephen Hackett made his way into the room.

"Sir," Shepard practically shouted. Old habits took over as he instinctively leapt to his feet and greeted the senior officer with a stiff and sturdy salute.

"I think we're well past that, son," Hackett replied with a smile, making his way over to the desk and offering Shepard a firm and respectful handshake which he gratefully accepted.

The Admiral had not changed at all, almost appearing frozen in time. He had the same sturdy exterior, the same studious gaze and bold way of speaking. Old age had not diminshed the respect and authority he seemed to command by his very pressence alone. The man had seen more action, participated in more battles and commanded more military opperations than anyone Shepard had ever known and yet what he found most remarkable was that through it all, throughout all the pain and bloodshed, all the victories and defeats, the Admiral had never lost that one most important thing. The Admiral had never lost his humanity. He was a serious man, but that served only to illustrate how much he cared.

"It's good to see you again, Admiral," said Shepard, his smile genuine.

"Likewise," replied Hackett.

Shepard gestured to the seat in front of his desk, inviting the old soldier to sit. He did and the two took a moment to get comfortable.

"So how the hell are you, Shepard?" asked Hackett once comfortable. "You look like you're keeping fit."

Shepard looked down at himself, at the way his C-Sec uniform fit snugly to his body and showed off his still very impressive arms and chest.

"The synthetic implants do their share of the heavy lifting. Also I was never one to just lie around," replied Shepard with a small grin.

"Clearly."

"What about you? How are the rebuilding efforts on Earth?"

"Better than expected. It took some time, but the lights are finally on again. The salarians have been a major asset. We're just fortunate that their homeworld and its neighboring colonies were mostly ignored during the war. Without their help and resources repairs would have taken considerably longer."

"Why do you think they were spared?"

"Don't think they were inteded to be. They've never really been a major military superpower. I imagine the Reapers were most likely just saving them for last."

Shepard nodded.

"Makes sense," he said. "So what can I do for you?"

The question seemed to cause the old soldier some discomfort as he shifted a little in his chair.

"Shepard," he said after a moment's preparation. "I need to ask you a favor."


	2. Chapter 2

**I**

The Citadel existed in a fixed point in space. It did not rotate nor did it have any orbital pattern. This of course meant that there was no actual night or day on the Citadel. Instead the management that ran the day-to-day opperations made it regular procedure to brighten and dim the light fixtures at specific intervals in order to simulate a rising and setting sun. The original intent was to help new arrivals better acclimate to life off world; however, the practice ended up serving a secondary function, and that was to let all working stiffs know when it was time to loosen that tie, forget about work and blow off some steam at the Silversun Strip.

It was common knowledge amongst all Citadel inhabitants that the Strip was the number one spot for anyone looking for a good time. It offered a wide variety of activities including dinner, dancing, games of chance and live shows, as well as a plethora of shopping outlets. The aesthetic of the Strip felt something like Las Vegas crossed with a bucket of glowsticks. There was tons of neon lighting, dozens of bright and flashy holographic advertisements, big attention grabbing window displays, as well as just a general atmosphere of thrill and excitement.

With all the amusements the Strip offered, Shepard's only real wish was that he was in a better state of mind to appreciate it. His conversation with Admiral Hackett had left something of a bad taste in his mouth. More than anything else it was the timing of it that he found the most frustrating. Why did this have to happen now? Could it not have waited just one more day? Tonight was supposed to be a very important evening, something he'd been planning for weeks, and now...Well, there was no sense in putting it off anyway. He would follow through with his plans and enjoy himself as much as he could. He would do his best to make sure everything was perfect, exactly as he envisioned, and then, when the timing was right, he would blow the whole thing to pieces. There was little else he could do.

Shepard was half in his own mind, carefully negotiating his way through the throngs of people, when he happened by a Saronis Applications kiosk (one of several convenience oriented shopping centers located througout the Strip). One of the clerks, a young, human fellow with bronze skin and spiky red hair, made eye contact with him as he approached. The young man smiled, stepped out from behind the counter and then immediately approached Shepard with his hand outstretched.

"There he is," said the young clerk, taking Shepard's hand and shaking it vigorously. "There. He. IS. How ARE you today, sir?"

Caught completely off guard, Shepard could offer little more than a confused smile as he accepted the young man's handshake and struggled to match his face with a name.

"Do I know you?" he asked eventually.

"No, but I know you."

"Is that so?"

Shepard relaxed a bit as the scene started to gain focus. He'd been recognized, that was all. The young clerk had probably seen him in a vid, heard his name on a news story and realized who he was. It used to happen a lot more years prior, but not so much these days. All stars eventually fade. It doesn't matter if you're an award winning actor, a number one pop star or the savior of the galaxy, everyone has their five minutes and eventually everyone's clock runs down. Notoriety was never something that mattered all that much to Shepard anyway and he was thankful for the day when the buzz around him began to die down. Still, on the occasion that someone did recognize him and request an autograph or a picture, he'd always graciously accept the attention and do whatever-

"Yes, sir, I've seen you before," said the clerk merrily. "Rather I've seen your type before. You're the kind of man who's looking to ugrade his omni-tool software. Well, you're in luck, friend, because Saronis Applications has got you covered."

It was then Shepard realized, now unfortunately far too late, that he'd walked unwittingly straight into a sales pitch.

The clerk pulled a palm sized touch screen out of a pouch at his hip and swiftly stepped to Shepard's side.

"Now how are you set with translation software?"

Shepard sighed. He knew he should just walk away, but the gentleman in him felt that he needed to listen to the clerk for at least a moment or two. It had something to do with the fact that he had already stopped. There had to be some sort of science behind it, a mathematical formula that explained the correlation between forward momentum and one's own innate ability to disregard salesmen.

"I already updated my translation software last month," answered Shepard, barely able to hide the irritation in his voice.

"Of course you did, a nice, upstanding, responsible guy such as yourself," replied the clerk. "But I bet it wasn't with this. Introducing SL7, the latest language software from Saronis Applications. Now you might be saying to yourself, 'Why should I switch? The language software I have now works just fine,' but in this day and age with alien integration at an all time high why settle for 'just fine?' You want the best. You want cutting edge. Don't end up looking like a fool thanks to glitchy, out of date software. The new SL7 from Saronis Applications is compatible with all known languages and dialects. I'm talking turian, asari, batarian, hanaar, and of course human. It also functions up to .4 times faster than the average brand and offers a deeper and richer localization function, allowing for a more pure, more natural form of communication. That little cutie you've had your eye on? Don't risk an awkward encounter thanks to unreliable software. The speed and efficiency of SL7 is guaranteed to help sweep her off her feet."

"No thanks."

Shepard's feet began to move, but before he could gain any precious momentum, the clerk stepped in front of him, once again stopping him cold.

"Of course. What am I saying? A good looking guy like you. You already have a sweet heart, don't you? Let me guess. You got yourself a hot, little asari chick, right? Well then could I interest you in this?" In one swift movement, the clerk pulled another palm sized data pad from his pocket. "It just so happens that every in store purchase of SL7 comes with a copy of _Thessian Love Vol. 3_. featuring over 200 poems and sonnets straight from the motherworld, guaranteed to impress that sweet little asari girlfriend of yours."

"And which asari girlfriend might that be?"

The sudden arrival of a distinctly feminine voice was enough to halt the sales pitch and catch the attention of both men. Turning they found the owner, a young quarian woman standing a mere few feet behind them with her arms folded across her chest. Like all quarians, she wore an envirosuit. It was black and form fitting with cloth accents at the hips and shoulders, violet ones with elegant white whorls. Like most new quarian arrivals to the citadel, she was in the final stages of adaptation and no longer needed her helmet and visor. Instead she wore a simple breathing apparatus which was visually speaking not unlike the one Shepard wore when missions took him out into the vacuum of space or to a world with a hostile atmosphere. Her skin was a lovely shade of light purple and she had long, shiney black hair that peeked out from beneath a traditional quarian head scarf and flowed in elegant waves down to her shoulders. Her eyes were like two pearls, solid white with an almost ethereal glow to them, and at the moment they were fixed right at Shepard and impatiently waiting for an explanation.

"Tali, honey," said Shepard with small, slightly nervous laugh. "I was just coming to meet up with you."

The clerk, connecting the dots and realizing his error, naturally offered no aid, instead giving Shepard nothing more than a quick pat on the shoulder and a 'Gotta go.' Shepard rewarded the clerk's cowardice with a scowl at the back of his head before quickly returning his attention to his still waiting quarian girlfriend.

"How was work?" he asked innocently. When Tali didn't respond and instead remained keenly staring with arms folded, he offered her kind smile. She had apparantly only heard the end of his conversation with the clerk and was only a little confused. No big deal. "It's not how it sounds" he said confidently. When Tali again didn't reply, that confidence quickly faded. "Seriously, it's not how it sounds, " he repeated, becoming serious. "I was on my way to meet up with you and this guy...he reeled me in. It was a trap-a sales trap and he wanted to sell me- sell me some software and the software came with poems and I tried to leave but I-"

Shepard probably would have rambled like that for hours if Tali hadn't at that moment started to giggle.

"Oh I wish I could have kept that up longer," she laughed. "The look on your face..."

"What?"

"It's alright. You can relax. I heard the whole thing."

Frowning sightly, Shepard put his hands on his hips.

"That was not funny," he declared grouchily.

His tone combined with the serious look on his face ultimately served no function other than to cause Tali's giggles to come roaring back in full force. Shepard was about to protest a second time when there came a sudden booping sound from Tali's omni-tool as it unexpectedtly sprang to life.

"I'm afraid I do not understand the Commander's displeasure, Miss Tali," came a synthesized voice. The light from the omni-tool flashed in time with each word spoken. "I thought your deceptive ruse was quite humorous."

"Why thank you, Dec," replied Tali, politely. "I thought so too."

"You are quite welcome," answered the voice.

The war against the Reapers wasn't the only conflict to be resolved by Shepard's actions. Thanks to some off the cuff diplomoacy skills the 300 plus year war between the quarians and their synthetic creations The Geth had mercifully come to a peaceful end. Once the fighting stopped the two races began what would become a record setting rebuilding process on their homeworld of Rannoch. Not only that, but by downloading themselves into the suits of volunteers, the Geth were able to help thousands of quarians strengthen their immune systems at a rapid pace, making them stronger and healthier than they'd been since even before the war. Tali had initially been resistent to the idea, but after seeing the results the appeal of being able to live a life free of the confines of her envirosuit became too great to pass up. Her 'immunity specialist,' as they were called, was a Geth who had taken on the handle Decibel or 'Dec' for short. Over time the two developed a good natured report and at this point could even be called friends. Shepard had always been supportive of his girlfriend's decision, and it was only moments like these, with the two reveling in his distress, that he wondered why.

Observing Shepard's expanding frown, Tali decided to make peace. Moving in close, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body to his.

"Don't be mad," she said sweetly. "Come on, kiss me." She tapped the cicular plate on her breather, right over where her mouth was. "Right here, on my filter."

"I don't think I want to," replied Shepard, turning away in mock hurt.

"Oh come on," Tali laughed. "You have to admit it's funny. Big, strong Commander Shepard terrified of little, old me."

"You joke, but I've seen you mad before. It's not pretty."

"Not with you."

"Oh yes, with me."

"When have I ever been angry with you?"

"There was that time I tried cleaning your visor."

Tali was silent for a moment, quickly processing Shepard's words. Her eyes then widened as she quickly recalled the forgotten memory.

"Okay, _that_ time I _was_ mad," she said, finally.

"I was trying to do you a favor."

"You put it in the dishwasher."

"It was a momentary lapse in judgement."

Tali giggled again and Shepard, letting go of his faux anger, placed a loving kiss in the center of her forehead.

**II**

In all the known galaxy, never had Shepard ever met a woman like Tali'Zorah. Brilliant and sweet, funny and caring, she had an inner strength that humbled him. His reasons for fighting had always been many, but if he was being honest, his greatest reason, the one that kept him going, forced him to get up everytime he got knocked down, had always been her. She had been with him throughout all of his ups and downs and had faith in him even when he didn't have it in himself. She was the love of his life and getting to be with her at the end of the Reaper war was a greater reward than he ever thought possible.

"Alright out with it now," said Tali as the two walked arm and arm down the busy strip. "What's this big surprise?"

"Patience," smiled Shepard. "You'll know it when you see it."

"Well, can we stop for something to eat first? I'm starving."

"Hold on now. Just a bit further."

Fortunately for Tali's stomache, Shepard was true to his word. His big surprise turned out to be reservations at a restaurant, but not just any restaurant.

"Ryushi?" exclaimed Tali. It was just as Shepard said. The moment she saw the bright neon sign and lavishly decorated main entrance, she knew: this was it. "It's finished?"

"Grand opening," declared Shepard. "And guess who made sure _we_ got the first table?"

"Oh I love you!" Tali pracically shouted the words as she threw her arms around Shepard's neck and hugged him tight.

Ryushi was the restaurant Tali had dreamed about going to all throughout her pilgrimage, a high end sushi place that was fancy, upscale, well-to-do and all other similar adjectives in between; the kind of place that most people could only dream about dining at. Shepard had seen to the place's initial closing during the war and then it's total destruction when he fired the shot from the Crucible that killed the Reapers, but now the repairs were complete and he was ready to show the woman he loved the time of her life.

"And this time I promise no gunfire," added Shepard.

"Or fallilng through the floor?" smirked Tali.

"Or falling through the floor," promised Shepard.

Dinner was of course wonderful, even better than Tali could have ever hoped. Had she attended the place back when she first found it, she would have had to make due with awkwardly cutting her food up fine and negotiating the pieces into the small intake port in her air filter. Now, thanks to Dec and her greatly improved immune system she was capable of removing her breathing apparatus for short periods, allowing her the ability to enjoy herself the way she always wanted, to eat her fill and not make a spectacle of herself in the process.

"That. Was. Amazing," gushed Tali, laying her chopsticks down across her plate.

"I'm glad you liked it," said Shepard with a smile as he gently wiped his mouth with his napkin.

"Thank you so much. I really thought you'd forgotten about this place. Keelah, I'd nearly forgotten myself."

"It was important to you. That was reason enough to remember."

Tali's eyes shined with warmth and affection as she reached across the table and laid her hand over Shepard's.

Shepard took a deep breath and a troubled sigh escaped his lips. Here with Tali, having such an wonderful evening, he never wanted it to end, and yet it had to. It was finally time.

"Tali, there's something we need to discuss," he said, taking a deep breath. "I saw Admiral Hackett today..."

**III**

Hackett's face was solemn as he shifted in his seat and placed his hands on the armrests of his chair. Finally he spoke.

"It might seem crazy, coming all the way out here like this when I could have just as easily contacted you via the Alliance Social Network," he said, "but somehow I thought it would be in bad taste. I needed to do this in person. I needed you know how important this was to me. I came here to ask for your help."

"Help with what?" asked Shepard, showing his interest.

"Cerberus."

The name hit with all the force of a freight train. Shepard had not given one moment's thought to the terrorist group since the end of the war and never expected to again. Hearing it now shook something inside of him and left him feeling cold. Cerberus was undoubtedly the great shame of the Systems Alliance. Originally they were a black ops group, however they went rogue at the conclusion of the First Contact war. Their ideology served an Earth first mentality. They believed it was humanity's destiny to expand from one side of the galaxy to the next and control all interests within. Their attitude concerning alien life was at best indifferent and at worst openly hostile. Over the years they grew more radicalized and their actions became more and more extreme. All in all, the paramilitary group was said to be responsible for over 300 acts of violence against Citadel and Alliance Systems, including sabotage, espionage and assassination, and their science division performed hundreds of illegal and unethical experimentations on both willing and unwilling test subjects. Their greatest crime, however, came when they turned on the galaxy itself and aligned themselves with the Reapers. They were by far the darkest spot on humanity's resume.

"For the past three years," continued Hackett after a breath. "The Alliance has been hunting down and systematically eliminating the last remaining Cerberus cells one by one."

"I thought Cerberus died along with the Reapers."

"Yes and no. The bulk of their army fell when the Reapers were destroyed, wiped out along with the rest of the indoctrinated forces; however, a few factions remained. Once the fighting ended, they went deep underground. They mainly stay off the radar, too afraid to kick up any dust lest they bring the wrath of a still very much unified galactic army down upon them. Their a shadow of their former self, but nevertheless they've still managed to make trouble here and there, disrupting relief effort, raiding isolated colonies, that sort of thing."

"I can't believe that after everything that's happened...why would they even still want to fight?"

"Their a bunch of lunitics. Always have been. Even the death of the Illusive Man wasn't going to change that. One by one we've been shutting down the remaining cells. According to our intelligence reports there should only be one left. And I want you to take them out."

"Me?"

Hackett gave a solemn nod.

Shepard thought for a moment and then quickly shook his head. "No," he said brusquely. "No, I'm sorry Admiral. I'm retired."

"I know that."

"Then send someone else. It sounds like you've been doing well. Why send me?"

"I already have someone ready to oversee this mission and I'll send them if I have to, but...Listen to me, Shepard. I _could_ send someone else and I'm confident that the job would get done but...Shepard, I'm almost 63 years old. I've held this position for longer than I should have and next year I plan on putting this chapter of my life behind me come hell or high-water. But the truth is the only way I'll be able to enjoy the years that follow is if I know in my heart that Cerberus is dead and buried. The bastards came to power under my watch and they nearly destroyed us all. All the damage they've done and continue to do...at least some of that falls on my head."

"Admiral..."

"Please, Shepard. I know it's not fair to ask you this, but we are so, so close to ending this. The last thing I want to do is fall on my face now that I'm this close to the finish line. You're the finest soldier it has ever been my pleasure to command and sending you is the only way I'll know with absolute certainty that Cerberus will get buried once and for all. Please, Shepard. Will you do this for me?"

**IV**

"No," said Tali firmly.

"Tali..." began Shepard.

"Don't Tali me. No. You're retired."

If the tone in Tali's voice didn't make it obvious enough that she was upset, the fact that she had begun furiously wringing her hands sealed the deal. It was a nervous tick that she'd had for as long as Shepard had known her. The way she grabbed her palms and twisted her fingers, pulling and squeezing at them over and over...It was the easiest way to tell if something was deeply troubling her.

"I know I'm retired," answered Shepard after a moment.

"I mean how dare Admiral Hackett even ask this of you. You killed the Reapers. You saved trillions of lives. You nearly died. Wasn't that enough?"

"Tali, please-"

"So what did you say? You told him no, right?"

For several agonizing moments, Shepard was silent. Leaning back in his chair, he absent-mindedly scratched the short hairs on the back of his head as he averted the quarian woman's gaze.

"Not exactly," he said finally."

"And what does that mean?"

"I told him I had to think about it."

"What's there to think about? You're not really considering his offer?"

"I already have."

"And?"

Again Shepard fell silent. The conversation was not going nearly as well as he hoped. Leaning forward in his chair he laid his hands on the table.

"I want...I **_need_** to do this."

"You can't be serious."

Shepard gave no reply. The look on his face said it all.

Leaning back in her seat, Tali folded her arms in front of her chest and looked away angrily.

"So what was this then?" she asked bitterly, her eyes beginning to shine with angry tears. "You take me to dinner, drop this bombshell on me then just take off and I'm supposed to be all fine with it?"

"Of course not. I had this dinner planned for weeks. It was a surprise. I swear this not how I wanted things to go."

"But you're still leaving."

"No! I mean, yes. I mean...not exactly."

"I thought you were happy."

Her words were like a punch in the gut. All at once Shepard felt this great fear, as if he were losing her. He couldn't let that happen. Getting up from the table he circled around and quickly placed himself back in Tali's line of sight. Getting in close he kneeled in front of her and swiftly placed his hands over hers.

"I **_am_** happy. Tali, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. These past few years with you have been the best of my life, and I want to have a hundred more just like them...but I can't ignore this."

"I can't lose you."

"I know. That's why I need you to come with me."

"What?"

"Years back, during the final push on Earth you pleaded with me not to leave you behind. I couldn't take you with me then, but I swore to myself that if I made it back alive I never wanted to be apart from you again. Believe me when I say I'm not going anywhere unless you're by my side. Admiral Hackett asked me to do this as a favor to him. And now I'm asking _you_ to do this as a favor to _me_. Please...I need you to say yes."

Tali sat back in her seat and for several moments, she said nothing. Suddenly her omni-tool bleeped to life.

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, Miss Tali," said Dec, "but in fifteen minutes you will need to resume wearing your breathing apparatus."

"Thank you, Dec," answered Tali. She met Shepard's gaze for a moment then swiftly extracated her hands from his before grabbing for the small digital menu sitting in the middle of the table. "I need some dessert," she declared.

**V**

The rest of dinner was quiet and the walk back to the apartment the two shared was even more so. Shepard did not press Tali to make a decision nor did he try and change the subject. He merely gave her time. It was late in the evening now and the two of them were getting ready for bed. Shepard was reading, sitting on the edge of the bed in his typical t-shirt and flanel pants. There was the sound of running water from the bathroom and a moment later Tali entered the bedroom sans breather and wearing a loose fitting, black, satin nightie. Shepard didn't turn only continued to read up until he felt the jostling of the mattress as Tali took a seat beside him on the bed. She took a deep breath and then she spoke.

"Shepard, may I ask you something?" she said.

"Of course," answered Shepard, setting his datapad down beside him.

"You told me Admiral Hackett's reason for wanting you on this mission, but what is yours? Why is this last mission so important to you?"

For several seconds, Shepard quietly turned the words over in his head.

"I guess, like the Admiral, I feel somewhat responsible," he said finally.

"But why? Why should you feel responsible for anything Cerberus has done?"

"Because I helped them."

"You mean the battle against the Collectors? Shepard you didn't help them, you used them."

"No. That may have been what I told myself, but it's not true. I compromised back then and I've always wondered if it was really worth it."

"You were trying to save the colonies in the Terminus systems, your people. They were in danger and no one else was willing to help them. I would have done the same thing in your position."

"It's more than that." Reaching out, Shepard took Tali's hand in his and watched as their fingers entwined, as her three perfect digits wrapped lovingly in and around his five. They were so different and yet they fit together perfectly. "Tali, Cerberus..." he continued after a moment. "Cerberus represents everything that's wrong with the galaxy. They represent everything wrong with humanity. I can't allow them to go on existing. I need to know that they're gone, and the only way to know for sure is to do it myself."

"Taking down this last Cerberus cell will give you peace?"

Shepard nodded and the room became silent once more. Tali took a deep breath and then she spoke.

"Okay then," she said with a smirk. "Let's go get the bosh'tets."

"Really?"

Tali nodded.

Shepard smiled. He kissed the back of Tali's palm.

"I don't deserve you," he said.

"Of course you do," answered Tali, almost sounding hurt. "I wish more people cared the way you do."

Leaning forward, Tali placed her free hand on Shepard's cheek. Leaning in, she kissed him softly and for several moments the two stayed that way, relishing in the feel of one another as their lips gently made contact again and again. Slowly but surely their kisses began to gain intensity as their mutual yearning for one another grew. Wanting to be closer, they began removing their nightwear. Articles of clothing fell to the floor one after the other. Naked skin made loving contact as together the two fell to the mattress in a warm embrace. Their love making was slow and sweet that night as the two took their time, wanting to savor every precious moment.

They were so different and yet they fit together perfectly.

Finally, after what felt like a life time the two lay spent against the covers, holding one another in the darkness.

"I love you, Tali," said Shepard huskily, his words awash with pure emotion as he pulled her close.

"Besah le'noshka," answered Tali.

At the sound of the alien words, Shepard's brow furrowed slightly.

"What did you say?" he asked.

"Besah le'noshka," repeated Tali, not understanding his confustion as she repositioned herself against his chest. "I've said that before, haven't I?"

"I don't think so."

"It's another keelish phrase that doesn't really have a direct translation. It's a term of endearment, something you say only when you feel the deepest affection for someone. When you say it to someone, you are saying that they are your life. They are you. When you are with them, you are home."

"Well then besah le'nooska to you too," said Shepard, smiling.

Tali giggled.

"**_Noshka_**," she corrected.

"Noshka," clarrified Shepard. "Belah..."

"**_Besah_**."

"-se'noska."

"..le'noshka..."

Tali giggled.

"You'll get it," she said, kissing him again.

For a while they stayed like that, holding one another and just enjoying the blissful silence of the bedroom, until very reluctantly Shepard extracated himself from Tali's grasp. It was time. He knew what had to be done. Sitting up, he turned and sat on the edge of the bed. Raising his hand he summoned his omni-tool and began typing in the proper frequency to contact Admiral Hackett as Tali crawled across the bed and took a seat beside him. He was just about to hit send when he stopped.

"Are you sure?" he asked Tali.

"Like I told you before," answered Tali. "Where ever you go, I'm with you."

The two shared one final kiss before Shepard returned his attention to his omni-tool. He made one final tap and a few seconds later there came a bleeping sound.

"Admiral," he said into the device. "This is Shepard. I'm in."


End file.
